Poems
I am the child that always weeps,
I am the child the never creeps,
I am the child that has no friends,
I am the child that needs many a-mends.
Why me?
I am the child that is a victim of a big bully,
I am the child that is treated cruelly,
I am the child that has no family,
I am the child that is a slave.
Why me?
I died a death but stayed alive
In phantom’s likeness I survive
Alive, yet dead, I walk alone
In rooms with walls as cold as stone
I lived a life and dreamed a dream
And loved the life you lived with me
Then in the whisper of a breath
You left, and then I died a death
Though dead I live, I cannot part
From love that lives within my heart
Within my sorrow I must strive
To keep my hope and faith alive
For all the love that I would give
I surely would prefer to live
To be content, not to survive
But feel my spirit come alive
You slowly took your final breath
‘Twas me, my dear, who died a death
IT MATTERS TO THIS ONE
As I walked along the seashore
This young boy greeted me.
He was tossing stranded starfish
Back to the deep blue sea.
I said, “Tell me why you bother,
Why you waste your time this way
There’s a million stranded starfish.
Does it matter anyway?”
And he said, “It matters to this one,
It deserves a chance to grow.
It matters to this one.
I can’t save them all, I know.
But it matters to this one,
I’ll return it to the sea.
It matters to this one.
And it matters to me.
…Author Unknown
Frustration
Friends and family don’t understand
Even when we try to explain to them
Anger rises up to choke us when
Really all we need is support.
Every time the surf drags me down,
I can’t breathe, I can’t think
I struggle to the surface.
But each time i go under
a little piece of me is
washed away.
How much longer til
there’s nothing left for
the water to take?
Down i go once more,
by choice, for without
a brain what am I?
-Katie Padilla
CAUTION: ROADWORK AHEAD
By: Thames NaFate
God formed a business meeting; He put me on this path called life.
When I was born I didn’t know all roads have lanes of strife.
If life was good as fine wine, no shock I felt locked in the cellar.
As years went on I made it home and became the common dweller.
Is my life’s sole purpose to be a warning at any cost?
Or how far do I walk down this path called life before I admit I’m lost?
My path seemed like a treadmill; I kept going but stayed in place
A path that made my friends’ outdo a NASCAR race.
Life is like a freeway, but with no exits to be found
The only sign you’ll ever see is “DEAD END” that comes around.
Is this the highway we call life or the highway straight to hell?
My windshield was so fogged up that I just couldn’t tell.
So God planned another meeting and said, “He goes nowhere,
“Thirty years ago I planned this out, but he’s just standing there!”
So God through His mercy, a long story so it seems,
Made my Rest Area history — a rear-view mirror scene.
He took me to the body shop and the mechanic did confess,
“Man, this guy needs tune-up, he is such a mess!”
Now I’m told the sky’s the limit, and I will get there soon,
But if the sky is all you get who put footprints on the Moon?
I feel like I can leap and fly: to soar in the wind.
No one knows where to go unless they know where they’ve been.
I thank God for saving me from the path to destruction
Yet this road He chose for my life is always under construction.
Only He can know how smooth and open this path is to travel,
But no matter who you are, your path has potholes and stretches of gravel.
Now I’ve found so much help; for the new me that’s set free,
And I thank God once again for this path that He chose for me.
The color of my brain is red
All the pain and dread
Everything consumes my spirit
Nothing will ease the conscience
The color of my brain is red
All the pain and dread
Everything consumes my spirit
Nothing will ease the conscience
The state of my soul is dead
Maybe it’s all the burning bridges
Or maybe it’s what I do not know
Somehow there has to be an end
The hope for my future is hell…
Nothing seems to ring a bell
It’s been one long journey of falling
I am on my knees in my room balling
I Try to make the most out of a disaster.
I am aware that when
you dismiss another person
it is you who is diminished.
In the depths of winter picture
one perfect rose
and that will be me.
Today’s Love Poem 
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